


Coating the truth

by dutchbuffy



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-05
Updated: 2017-06-05
Packaged: 2018-11-09 04:56:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11097354
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dutchbuffy/pseuds/dutchbuffy
Summary: Coat Fetish: Xander's story.Timeline: after Seeing Red, after Beneath You, in Get It Done.





	Coating the truth

**Author's Note:**

> An answer to Another Elsa's Duster Challenge: how did the dang thing get in the school basement?.

When Xander was leaving the house, late that night, he saw the damn duster hanging over the banister again. That’s the last thing she needs to see, he told himself as he took it with him, intending to trash it at the earliest opportunity. But he hadn’t. 

The first few months he occasionally came across it in its plastic bag in the back of his closet. He actually forgot several times what was in there and opened the bag to check. It always stared back at him with its matte gloss, and appealing leather and smoke smell. Why not? It would say. Try me. He’d punch it back down and throw it back. Disgusting thing.

One night in early summer, when Anya had come by to collect the last of her stuff and Xander was feeling particularly lonely and put-upon, he remembered the coat again and took the bag out. He took it to his bedroom and closed the curtains, humming a little tune as he did that, trying not to think of why he wanted them closed. He took the coat out and sniffed it. What a great smell. He rubbed it against his face and inhaled deeply. The old leather felt soft against his face, the texture much more supple than it looked. Only when he tried it on, swirling it a bit when he put his arms in the sleeves, it didn’t feel right. He caught his reflection in the big mirror and realized what was wrong.

His heart started thumping loudly when he removed his clothes and he had to suppress the urge to look around surreptitiously. This was his own home, dammit, his bedroom, and he could do anything he pleased here! The feeling of doing something wrong, forbidden, persisted, but actually, that made it better.

He deliberately didn’t look in the mirror while undressing, to surprise himself, and when he put it on over his overheated, naked body he felt an incredible rush of anticipation. The silk lining slid softly against his skin, cool and caressing, like an embrace. It was a little tight, but the rustling sound it made was just right. 

He was someone different now, with this coat on. Naughty Xander here.Cool, daring, anything-goes Xander. He kept his eyes closed as he turned to the mirror once more. When he opened them, the sight that greeted him was the most exciting thing he could have imagined. He held the coat open a little and stared at himself. It looked so great with his lightly tanned skin and dark hair and darkening hard-on. He strutted up and down a bit, admiring himself, flashing the coat around, flicking the edges against his cock, giving himself little shocks. Xander the Vampire Layer. Slayer. He meant Slayer. He was a killer, ready to rid the world of rapists. Like Superman, only with a black cape and a mighty lance.

The urge to touch that thick erection in the mirror was too strong and he started stroking slowly, trying to prolong the sensation. What else could you do to a vampire, with a coat and a cock like that? The image of Spike on all fours, begging for it, sprang with alarming clarity into his mind, as if it had been waiting for an opportunity to pop up. In that incredibly detailed mental picture, Spike had his muscled white ass in the air, and turned his head around to urge him on, waggling his tongue in that annoying dead-sexy manner of his, and it was enough to make him come in great spurts all over the mirror. The reflection of his own flushed face and heaving chest, still standing with his hand around his cock, made him feel a little queasy. He hadn’t meant to go there, and now there was no way he could erase this picture from his mind. Sad guystanding alone in his bedroom, jacking off on the image of fucking a guy he hated. 

A sudden chill made goose flesh spring up all over his body and he watched the hairs stand up all over his body. His softening dick and still tightly pruned balls looked kinda sad, hanging lonely and dejected beneath his belly .He turned off the lights and crawled in bed, drawing the soft leather around him for comfort.

The next morning he had red creases all over his body, from sleeping in the coat. He cleaned it up, and the mirror, and had an extra long hot shower, even though the temperature threatened to be in the nineties again. The coat was retuned to its crumpled bag in the closet. End of coat story.

So, what was he doing here in the school basement with the damn thing in his hand? Why exactly was he going to check up on the vampire that had raped Buffy? Not as if she had asked him to do that. He called the name out softly. 

“Spike? Spi-ike?”

There wasn’t exactly an answer, but he heard mumbling and rustling sounds from behind rows of old lockers and tables. He zigzagged through the labyrinth until he had located the source of the voice. Jesus. Instead of cocky annoying vampire in Superman suit there was a filthy, cowering crazy person crouched under a table. It looked at him with panicked, white-rimmed eyes and tried to crawl even further away from him under there.

Xander put the duster on the table and knelt down next to Spike. This was really… He shook his head in frustration. How could you feel pity for someone you hated? Only last week that someone had been standing in Buffy’s living room, looking at him with those eyes that always saw everything, and he hadn’t been able to repress a hot surge of jealousy... Buffy putting out for – that – and never for him.

“Spike? Do you need anything? Can I help?”

There was no real answer, just more mumbling in a funny accent. Spike managed to scrunch himself in an even smaller corner and hid his face in his hands. He looked so small. Had he always been this small? He’d always seemed bigger than him, but maybe that had just been the swagger, and the bigger than life personality - read arrogant bastard.

After a few more fruitless attempts to lure Spike out from under the table Xander gave up. He wasn’t actually sure what he’d come for, but it sure wasn’t this sad helpless feeling. 

He hadn’t even realized he’d left the coat in the basement until he saw it again on mighty Spike the demon killer. Should have kept it himself.

END


End file.
